


Tea and Toast

by Ayla221bee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Young Mycroft Holmes/Young Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayla221bee/pseuds/Ayla221bee
Summary: '“You didn’t need to do that,” Mycroft said.“Nah, it was only right of me to do so,”  Greg said. “I never got tea and toast the first time I slept with someone. My mum always goes on about how it is polite to make guests a cup of tea and I thought that you needed one, one with extra sugars in it.” '
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 2
Kudos: 91





	Tea and Toast

**Author's Note:**

> No one needed this fic but I wanted to write something, hopefully, it's alright!

Mycroft stretched out on the bed as much as he could and tried to get warm, the duvet wasn’t big enough for the two of them. His knees bumped against a leg as he shifted closer on the bed, an arm wrapped around him protectively even though he was still practically a stranger to them even though he had willingly exposed himself.

He knew that he shouldn’t have felt this comfortable with someone else even if he could not exactly remember his name… Geoff? George… no, it was Greg, Mycroft thought. It had to be Greg, it was rather difficult to hear him over the music and it hardly seemed that important. There was little room to properly introduce another between each other's mouths and the kisses that they shared.

He knew that it would be far too rude to ask him what his name was right now, it was much too late to ask now. He hardly wanted to spoil a good evening by asking someone their name. He doubted that it would matter, he wondered that this was a one-off thing, it was the first week of university and he doubted that anyone as handsome as Greg would even look at him twice without the influence of alcohol. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet. I don’t think that I was that awful.”

He shifted in the bed and propped himself up on one elbow, the other arm reaching over and gently smoothing down his hair, tangling in the product that he had put in his hair in the attempt to tame it. Greg smiled to himself, seemingly focused on trying to remove the product that the hairdresser had put in it this morning, claiming that a new hairstyle and some product will help his confidence. 

Mycroft smiled to himself at that thought-perhaps the hairdresser somehow knew what was going to happen tonight. He realised that he hadn’t spoken and Greg almost had a concerned expression on his face. He nodded and smiled at Greg, trying to reassure him. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?” Greg asked, sitting up from the bed and tried to find his boxers. “You are alright though? We didn’t go too fast for you or anything?”

Mycroft covered himself up in the sheet even though there was little point in being modest. He looked at the posters on Greg’s wall, taking a great interest in the Queen poster that was above his desk in the attempt to stop his eyes lingering on Greg’s body for longer than what was acceptable. He was a beautiful creation, Mycroft couldn’t understand why he had picked him out of all the people in the club and invited him over.

He tried to ignore the tug in his stomach and tried to fight the urge to ask Greg to stay with him. He wasn’t too sure how things were meant to go in situations like this. It was a day of firsts for him in many ways: the first time that he put product in his hair, the first time in a gay club, the first time that someone had noticed that he was there instead of thinking that he was a part of the furniture, practically invisible, the first time that he had gone to someone’s flat, and the first time that he had been with someone. 

“It was lovely,” he said, smiling at Greg in the attempt to hide the insecurity that had settled in the pit of his stomach. “Thank you.”

  
Greg let out a laugh, the noise rang wonderfully in Mycroft’s ear. He shook his head at him as he put on his boxers. “I’ve never had anyone said that to me before,” he said, giving Mycroft a gentle smile, leaning over to peck him on the lips. “ I can tell you that you are new to this.” 

  
“I’m not now,” Mycroft said, propping himself up on his elbows, trying to locate his clothes, his underwear was somehow by the door. “What makes you think that?” He tried to make himself more confident than he was. 

  
Greg let out a bark of a laugh and shook his head once more. “You are a bit of a shy one, aren’t you? Shy boys are always good kissers.” He knelt on the bed and stretched over to kiss him once more. “I’ll be back.”

Mycroft nodded and stretched out on the bed, trying to make himself comfortable once again. He wondered what he was supposed to do. He tried to pick out his clothes from the puddle of them on the floor. The room smelt of Greg, cigarettes, and washing powder, he was surprised that it smelt rather nice. He tried his best to ignore the bundle of nerves in his stomach by looking at the titles on the stack of books that Greg had on his desk, pleasantly surprised that there were classics and some of the books that Mycroft rather enjoyed. 

Greg walked into the room with two mugs and a plate of toast in his hands. He placed the plate on the pile of books and shifted in the bed, nudging him with his foot to get him to move. “I thought that you could do with extra sugar in the tea, I know that I should have asked. Thought that you could do with something to eat as well, keep your strength up,” he grinned, giving Mycroft a wink. 

Mycroft’s stomach twisted but the feeling wasn’t too unpleasant. He did not know if things were supposed to go like that, sleeping with a stranger and having him make him tea and toast. It never happened in the books that he liked to read about his favorite films. Then again, he supposed that he was already going against the grain by not being in bed with a woman- perhaps the rules were different for people like him. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” Mycroft said. 

  
“Nah, it was only right of me to do so,” Greg said. “I never got tea and toast the first time I slept with someone. My mum always goes on about how it is polite to make guests a cup of tea and I thought that you needed one, one with extra sugars in it.” 

  
“Do you make a habit of doing that?” Mycroft asked, carefully nibbling at his toast so he didn’t get crumbs on Greg’s duvet. 

Greg shook his head and let out a laugh before he took a sip of tea. “Nah. Do you make the habit of making blokes buy you drinks?” 

“You were the one who approached me!” Mycroft replied. 

“You beckoned me over,” Greg grinned. “You must have liked my dancing. You gave me a look and you invited me over, then I ended up buying you a drink somehow.” 

Mycroft let out an undignified snort. “I was curious about how much hair product that you have in your hair,” he said, running his fingers through Greg’s fringe. Greg took a long sip of tea before he moved the cup to the side, placing his hand on Mycroft’s thigh. Mycroft shifted and found himself holding his breath, but he did not protest and did not try to move Greg’s hand. 

  
“You are going to be grey with all that product in your hair,” he managed to utter out. 

“How can you tell?” Greg asked, his fingers trailing up Mycroft’s tight. “I’d reckon that I would look good with grey hair. I’d reckon that you are going to look good when you are older.”

  
“Do you now?” Mycroft asked with a raised eyebrow. “Does this mean that you want to see me again? So you can see me when I’m older?”

“I suppose that I could make you another cup of tea at least,” Greg grinned. “Fancy staying for another cuppa?” Mycroft nodded eagerly. 

He took the cup out of Mycroft’s hand and placed it on the side before he kissed him. A gentle and inviting kiss, not pushing for anything. Mycroft let out a noise of surprise and found himself missing the feeling of his lips once he pulled away for a moment. Mycroft quickly kissed him again, taking pleasure in the noise that Greg made- perhaps he was actually a good kisser like Greg said. 

A rush of excitement ran through Mycroft and a warmth settled in his middle, unsure if it was from the tea that he had or it was from Greg. He was positive that Greg’s kisses were much better than tea, he didn’t know that it was even possible. He kissed Greg again, trying to keep the feeling inside him for as long as possible, not sure if he would ever experience it again. 

Time seemed irrelevant as he kissed Greg, hardly able to grasp how long they had been kissing. Greg’s fingers tangled in his hair, fighting against the hair product and it turned Mycroft boneless, his head hitting the headboard with a soft thump.

“Are you alright?” Greg asked, breathlessly. 

Mycroft pulled him down by his shoulders to kiss him again, tangling Greg’s legs in his own to keep him close. “I’m fine, “ he breathed out. “Don’t stop.” 

Greg nodded and kissed his lips once more, slowly working his way down his chest and stomach, causing Mycroft to whine quietly. Mycroft tugged at his boxers, causing Greg to laugh. “You are impatient, so much for you being shy.”

  
“I can’t help myself,” Mycroft breathed out. “You are absolutely gorgeous.”

Greg stood up from the bed and tugged down his boxers, tossing them onto the floor into a puddle in the ground. He pushed his fringe from his eyes and grinned at Mycroft, looking at him as if he was something worth looking at twice and he was actually looking at him. “You are as well. You are a right treat to look at, Myc.”

Mycroft flushed and he could feel his ears turn pink. He pulled Greg down by his hand, kissing him again as if his life depended on it, unsure that he would ever get to experience it again. He protested when Greg pulled away and moved down, kissing his stomach and then his thigh, causing Mycroft to let out a groan. 

He hardly gave Mycroft warning before he took him in his mouth swallowing him down at once. Mycroft tangled his fingers in his hair and tried to muffle his moans with his hands. He hadn’t experienced anything before- it was definitely much better than tea. 

He could hardly give Greg a warning, tugging his hair and letting out a gasp of a moan. An unfamiliar rush ran through him, almost addictive quality to it and rather enjoyable. _I wouldn’t object to experiencing that more often_ , Mycroft thought to himself. 

  
Greg wiped his mouth with his hand and leaned over to kiss him, smirking at Mycroft and pushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Alright?” 

Mycroft nodded eagerly and kissed him again. “Can I…?” he asked nervously, his hand hovering above Greg’s hardness. 

Greg nodded and shifted on the bed, their positions reversed. Mycroft pretended to be more confident than he was, thankful for Greg’s encouragement and instructions about how he liked to be touched and what he was to do. 

Greg finished with a groan between their mouths as they kissed. Mycroft felt a surge in confidence in himself and helped himself to the tissues that were on Greg’s nightstand. 

They sat in comfortable silence, their legs tangled in another and occasionally sharing a kiss. Mycroft felt thankful for the toast that Greg had made him before and he wondered if he was supposed to make Greg tea time around, he was rather unsure of the rules.

  
Greg put a cigarette between his lips and lit up the cigarette, taking a puff out of it before he offered it to Mycroft. Mycroft accepted the cigarette and took out two puffs, tapping the cigarette into an old mug that Greg had on the nightstand. 

“Does anyone call you Myc?” Greg asked. 

Mycroft shook his head, he normally hated when people shortened his name or called him anything else, he did not mind as much when Greg did it though. “No one calls me that.”

“Can I call you that, Myc?” 

Mycroft considered it for a moment and nodded, realising that he would go to the ends of the world if Greg had asked him to do so even if they had hardly known another. “I suppose so,” he said. “I never knew that you were a smoker.”

“I should probably quit,” Greg said. “These things cost me a fortune and it’s expensive living in London.”

Mycroft hummed in agreement. “I should do the same.” 

  
“We can help another quit,” Greg said, nudging Mycroft’s foot with his own. “You can finish it off.”

  
“Are we going to see another again?” Mycroft asked. “If we are both quitting then we will probably need to see another for support.”

“I would like us to do that,” Greg smiled. “It might be good of us to do that, for moral support and it might actually help us quit. I would like to see you again. ” 

Mycroft took the cigarette and finished off the cigarette, putting the but in the mug. He looked at Greg, carefully considering what he said. “How long would we last?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos! I hope that this fic is alright, I just wanted to write a fic based on the last line and this is where it lead me.


End file.
